


Leave

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of Drabbles by Helmaninquiel [52]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:36:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine getting seriously injured and you think these are your last moments and Sam getting emotional.</p><p>300 Followers Drabble Celebration</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave

You let out a cry of pain as the blinding heat touched your skin. At least, it felt like blinding heat. But as the sword pulled away, your vision blurred and you collapsed to the ground. 

“Y/N!” you heard a voice cry. The sound of the gardener, so far from home that he was sure lost. 

A swift cut from Aragorn sent the Uruk-Hai falling feet from you and you gave a groan of pain as arms tugged at you, to pull you close to them. Your chest felt heavy, and your eyes too light to be falling as they were. “Don’t you dare leave me,” you heard Sam’s voice demand.

“It hurts so much,” you admitted. All the tales of battle warriors had all said that dying was easy. It didn’t hurt too much. It didn’t do anything much for the pain at all. But, then again, you weren’t a warrior. Maybe warriors died differently.

“What hurts?” Sam demanded. “We’ll heal it. I’ve some kingsfoil in my bag after Frodo’s run in with those nasty wraiths. You needn’t worry about any of that. And you can have my bedroll-”

“Sam,” Aragorn cut him off. “Fetch the others.”

“I’m not leaving her alone!”

“She won’t be,” Aragorn said firmly. “I’ll stay. I know some healing from the elves.”

But Sam clutched at you desperately and a pained cry left you as he jostled you. “It’ll be alright, you’ll see. I’ll be back before you know it and-”

“Sam,” Aragorn interrupted again. “Go.”

But the hobbit was crying, and he blubbered out some more words meant to console you before he was sprinting off in the direction of camp. Aragorn quickly took his place, but did not clutch you up onto his lap. Something you were immensely grateful for. 

You never wanted to die away from home. You wanted to be buried in the apple orchard your grandfather owned, as the rest of your family had. And you wanted to have apple pie on your death bed. And listen to the sobs of your family around you as you took your last breath, taking satisfaction in the fact that you were with those that loved you. You did not want to be in the middle of no where. In the middle of a forest with absolutely no sign of where the Shire was. 

Aragorn lifted up the hem of your tunic and glanced at the wound on your stomach. He grimaced slightly, and you watched his expression closely. 

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Aragorn promised. “Just some bleeding. But if not treated could fester.”

You weren’t relieved. It hurt so much. “So I’ll live?”

“You, you’ll live. But I’m not sure Sam will with the way he’s upset.” You chuckled, but quickly stopped as you realized how much it hurt. 

“He was always dramatic,” you muttered. And as you heard the hobbit running back, clutching your hand tightly so remain out of Aragorn’s way.

“She will live, Sam,” Aragorn spoke. “Is Legolas on his way?”

“They’re almost here,” Sam sniffled. He gave you what was likely an attempt at a reassuring smile. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t. But if you cry into my wound, Sam, I might have to make you,” you tried to warn lightly, but Aragorn adjusted you and the light mood faded as you groaned yet again. Maybe that was why warriors died peacefully. Their wounds were fatal. But you felt it when you would survive.


End file.
